


A Cross-section of Dysfunction

by Tcharlatan



Category: Dir en grey, X JAPAN
Genre: Angst, Band Fic, Drunkenness, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Friendship/Love, Hangover, M/M, Memory Loss, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:23:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tcharlatan/pseuds/Tcharlatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyo goes out with the intention of drowning his sorrows, and tries to remember how what began with a chance meeting became a vicious spiral from friendship, to love, to pain, to madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cross-section of Dysfunction

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of pure fiction. I do not personally know any of the members of Dir en Grey or X JAPAN, and do not profit from this work.

_Love me when I least deserve it, because that’s when I need it the most. ~Swedish Proverb_

Bubbles rose in thin streams through the amber liquid, twisting and glittering in the low light of the bar like strands of fine gold. Kyo ran his thumb through the condensation coating the glass, watching a thousand tiny droplets of mist collect into one fat drop, rolling down to join the ring forming on the table. It was only his second beer, but he was already starting to feel a hint of a buzz. He drank alcohol so rarely and in such moderation that he tended to be what Die called a “cheap date” and Kaoru referred to as a “lightweight.” He didn’t mind. He wasn’t drinking to be social, even surrounded by his friends and bandmates. He was drinking to get drunk, and maybe forget his woes for at least one night.

~*~

_Kyo bowed to the effeminate boy posited to him as a potential drummer, not bothering to hide the doubtful tilt of his eyes. He couldn’t read the boy very well, but drummers, he thought, were generally not spindly little girly-faced high school students who looked like a stiff breeze would send them tumbling. Terachi Shinya only gave a nervous half-smile and bowed politely, precisely. Kyo went to his spot and took up his cheap microphone, closing his eyes as the others shuffled into place in preparation to try out a song with the new addition. Not an original piece, of course; it was significantly easier for a band to familiarize themselves with one another over covered songs, where everyone could synch up with pre-established chords, paces, and rhythms._

_After a moment, the instruments came to life, and he winced faintly as a cacophony of noise built up around him. The guitars were playing their parts at a slightly uneven cadence, out of synch with one another by a fraction of a beat. The bassist seemed like he didn’t know the song as well as he’d assured them he did, and the low hum coming from his side of the room was so faint it seemed like his amp wasn’t even plugged in. Kyo sighed and prepared to add his voice to the misshapen din._

_Then he registered the steady pulse of the drums at his back. Shinya was not playing the song quite as it was originally intended; he’d simplified some of the more complicated sweeps and rolls, either to suit his skill set or because he lacked the proper equipment. But what he did play never strayed from the original idea of the song, carrying the rhythm and tempo near-flawlessly, and every last beat came out strong, sure, and incredibly precise. Thrilled, Kyo blocked out all of the sounds coming from the stringed instruments on either side of him, and let his voice be carried solely on the rolling waves of the drumline until it was as if were just he and Shinya in the room. The drum beat became his heart beat, permeating his entire body until he feared that when it stopped, he would die with it, and for the first time, he got just the tiniest taste of how it felt to actually create real music._

_It was a purely transcendent experience, and damningly addictive._

_When the song ended, Kyo did not die, but he found he felt somehow empty with only his own mundane pulse thrumming through him. The guitarists seemed cheerful enough, congratulating everyone on what they took as a phenomenal performance, and the room quickly dissolved into an endless round of chattering and back-patting and accolades. Kyo didn’t care – couldn’t care – about them, even when it was his turn for praise. He just put his microphone back in its stand and walked back to the drumkit, staring at the doll-faced boy and wondering what he was supposed to say to someone whose music he felt as much as he heard._

_In that moment, he felt certain – in the way that he sometimes simply **knew** things, but this time so strongly that there was no room for even a shade of doubt – that meeting Terachi Shinya was the first step towards his fate, no matter what happened to the rest of this band. His father had always attributed such feelings to the stupidity and arrogance of being a kid; his grandmother quietly assured him that he was just more sensitive than most because his eyes and ears were connected to his heart rather than his brain. After all, she would whisper to him in that giddy way she had, his mother came from a long line of prophets. It had always seemed a silly sentiment from the time-addled mind of a very old, very spiritual woman; well-intentioned, but ultimately asinine. He had no way of explaining his feeling in a way that didn’t sound equally insane._

_But Shinya only smiled at him, leaning forward on his stool so that no one else could hear him murmur, “Your voice makes my heart ache.”_

_And somehow, with the younger man smirking up at him like they were sharing some grand secret, Kyo couldn’t help but think maybe his grandmother had been right, and the bond he felt with Terachi Shinya was purely prophetic._

~*~

“You’re drinking tonight?”

The voice to his right was mild. Nonjudgmental, but riding a subtle undercurrent of concern, and Kyo had to smile just a little. “Yeah.”

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine. Just figured since I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, I’d join in the celebrations for once, you know? Everyone else seems to be having so much fun…”

~*~

_“Come on, you’re missing the best part!”_

_“What is- Ugh! Gods, Kyo! That’s disgusting!”_

_“But the effects are **amazing** ; it really looks like this guy is being eviscerated!”_

_“Evisceration shouldn’t be the best part of **anything!** ”_

_Kyo just chuckled, exaggeratedly darkly. He probably argued with Shinya more than any other member of the band, to the point that their harping squabbles became the topic of something of a running joke with the others. But every single one – from the screaming, swearing fits that found him red in the face and snarling, to the lighthearted bickering over nothing at all – ended with them just as secure in their friendship as they were when it started. Things were easy with the drummer; Kyo could always trust that he could be the best or the worst of himself, and Shinya would accept him. He would carry the sentiment to his grave unspoken, but no matter what bonds he might have forged in the past, or what bonds he was currently forming with the rest of their newly-formed band, Kyo considered Shinya to be his best friend._

_And perhaps the younger man felt the same way, at least to some extent. Nevermind that the drummer couldn’t afford or even fit a couch in his tiny apartment, so they were sitting on a nest of blankets and pillows on his futon. Nevermind that the building had no temperature control, and was bone-shatteringly cold so late into the winter. Nevermind that Shinya hated movies, and had spent most of the evening working through books of puzzles and riddles while Kyo watched some horrifying flick about a cannibalistic serial killer. The fact remained that Shinya – notoriously protective of his privacy, to the extent that it took months for the rest of the band to even earn his phone number – had invited Kyo into his home, and the vocalist knew how much the weight the offer carried._

_Hours drifted by, and the evening passed deep into the night. Every now and again, Kyo would volunteer the benefits of his slightly off-kilter thinking patterns and obscurely extensive vocabulary to help Shinya with his puzzles. Shinya periodically peeked over the top of his book and offer scathing commentary of the movie that left Kyo laughing until he could hardly breathe. When the credits began to run across the screen, Kyo turned to his companion to share his opinion, but found the younger man curled up on his side, dead asleep. The sight made him feel oddly warm and heavy, as if his belly were full of hot sand, and he found the sensation oddly soothing. Humming softly to himself, he turned off the TV and nestled down into the pile of cushions as well, yanking some blankets over the both of them and surrendering his own consciousness with a content sigh._

~*~

Shinya’s eyes tracked across the room, picking out the forms of their bandmates through clouds of tobacco smoke and flashing, multicolored lights. True enough, the others did seem to be enjoying themselves immensely. Die was off dancing with some beautiful girl he’d likely ending up taking home, or at least to the restroom. Toshiya had inserted himself into a rather boisterous card game a few tables over, and his laughter could periodically be heard over the loud music. Kaoru was almost belligerently drunk, but had found someone equally ornery to watch – and bicker over – a soccer game on the big-screen in the corner with him. Only Shinya and Kyo were tucked into the quiet booth, shied away from the noise and crowds of the club.

“They do, don’t they…” the drummer murmured, almost inaudible.

Kyo closed his eyes and lifted the beer to his lips, drinking deeply from it.

~*~

_Fists clenched tightly at his sides, Kyo stood frozen in the recording room, trying his absolute damndest not to snarl at the larger man blocking the exit door. He absolutely could not give in to his temper. Yoshiki Hayashi represented the entire band’s hopes and dreams, his offer to produce their next singles and album standing testament to their blossoming success. He was talented, he was experienced, his guidance and influence in the industry had been invaluable these past few weeks, and every last member of Dir en grey was deeply grateful for his contributions to their work. Kaoru and Shinya in particular, having been diehard X JAPAN fans for years, were starstruck every time the man so much as opened his mouth. Kyo couldn’t risk ruining all that – for himself, for the band, for his friends – by verbally assaulting Yoshiki, no matter how badly he wanted to._

_But he couldn’t back down from this either. His throat hurt, and if he continued trying to sing any longer, he was going to lose his voice, and then he’d be useless for the next couple of days. He may not have any proper vocal training, but he knew his body’s limits well enough to be sure of that. No matter how much Yoshiki tried to bully him back into the recording booth, no matter that the older man was at the end of his notoriously short temper, Kyo was **done**. Left without the ability to fight or to flee, he had done the only other thing he could think of. He’d forced his tongue into the back of his throat and just stood, silent and immobile._

_Unfortunately, Yoshiki seemed to think Kyo was ignoring him, and it was only making him angrier. His voice was getting louder and louder, his words sharper and meaner as he tried to force the vocalist to acknowledge him. Kyo couldn’t breathe with his throat sealed and he was starting to get lightheaded, but he knew if he opened it again, he’d start screaming as well, and everything would only get worse. His lungs were burning, his heart was pounding, he didn’t know what to do, and his mind started to shut down in a panic. Clearly at the end of his rope, Yoshiki jerked one arm over his head, and Kyo reflexively squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself to be hit. The moment of expectation came with the sound of skin hitting skin, but there was no impact._

_“ **Enough.** ”_

_Kyo dared peek one eye open, then both went wide. Shinya had his idol’s wrist in a white-knuckled grip, caught before the man could lash out, and his face was twisted into an uncharacteristic glower. Yoshiki looked completely taken aback, having never been met with anything other than adoration from the younger drummer. He seemed almost bewildered – as if he couldn’t quite remember how he’d gotten there or why his hand was raised – as his arm was released and Shinya shoved past him to grip Kyo by the shoulders. Kyo immediately grabbed onto his friend’s forearms for support and tried to focus on the younger man’s reassuring smile._

_“It’s alright, Kyo, you’re okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe, now. You have to breathe.”_

_In that moment – between when his vision and hearing started to fade out, and when he sucked in a massive gasp of air – Kyo realized that the heavy, hot-sand feeling he was filled with every time Shinya was around… was love._

~*~

“So… where’s Yoshiki tonight?” Kyo wondered with forced nonchalance.

“Hmm?” Shinya looked back to him, head tipped to one side. “Yoshiki?”

“Aa.”

“I wouldn’t know; I haven’t spoken to him in months. Why?”

Kyo looked up from his drink, surprised. “Months? I thought you two were…”

Shinya raised an eyebrow. “…Were what?”

“You know…” Kyo held up one fist and extended his thumb.

Shinya’s eyes went wide and he reeled back a bit when he recognized the somewhat archaic gesture. “What? No! Why would you think that?”

~*~

_Pulse racing, hands shaking, insides twisting; Kyo felt as if he’d had way too much caffeine and his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited and terrified all at once. After nearly a full year sitting on his feelings – trying to make sense of them, to understand and reconcile them with the world as he’d known it – he’d decided to throw caution into the wind and just come clean with Shinya, and see what happened from there. He had his whole confession all prepared, answers to almost every question or response his friend might present to him planned down to the last word, so all that was left to do was find Shinya and get the whole thing over with._

_The one question he couldn’t answer – for himself or for Shinya – was **why**. Why Shinya, of all people? Sure, he felt the younger man’s music in his heartbeat every time they played together, but he felt the others’ just as much. He felt Kaoru and Die’s guitars in his every nerve, like electricity was coursing over his skin, and Toshiya’s bass filled his bones with iron, giving him such strength and support that he felt invincible. It was how he knew they were his. Things were easier with Shinya than they were with anyone else, but was that the cause of his attachment, or a side effect of it? They were almost complete opposites in most regards; they should have been completely incompatible. Shinya was a glacier, all calm, unwavering beauty to the untrained eye, hiding immense strength and power under the surface. Kyo ran much hotter, from the volatility of his temper all the way out to the heat of his skin, and put forth a strong façade to mask his more vulnerable core._

_Eventually, he’d come to the conclusion that it didn’t matter why. Loving Shinya came as easily to him as breathing, and realizing his feelings was like waking up in a pool of molasses; so unbearably sweet, but he’d lost all sense of gravity and his entire body was screaming for air. So he was going to tell him, and maybe – just maybe – his friend could come to appreciate his heat as much as Kyo craved his cool, soothing touch. Worst case scenario, Shinya told him to piss up a rope and things were awkward for a while, but Kyo had full faith that their friendship would ultimately survive the ordeal._

_Of course, now that he’d made his decision, he was having all manner of trouble with the ‘find Shinya’ part of the plan. The drummer’s bag was still on the busted couch in the practice room, so Kyo knew he had to be somewhere in the building, but so far the sound room, recording booth, bathrooms, and vending machine nooks had all proved fruitless. Shinya didn’t smoke or enjoy being around people who were smoking, so the odds of him being on the roof with the others were slim to none, but Kyo couldn’t think of anywhere else any of them ever went, so he headed for the propped-open door leading to the stairwell. He made it as far as the second step before looking up, then went completely still._

_All at once, that warm sand in his belly went molten, turning into a heavy gob of glass and shattering to sear and shred at his insides. It hurt so badly his knees almost gave way beneath him, and he had to grip the handrail to keep from falling. He realized, with that sharp blow, that Shinya and Yoshiki made much more sense as a couple than Shinya and himself. They had a lot of common interests, Shinya idolized the older man, and Yoshiki was positively thrilled to have found such a talented protégé, and even through his agony, Kyo had to admit that they were absolutely beautiful together in a way that he could never hope to be. Standing on the next landing up, Yoshiki’s hands in Shinya’s hair and on his waist, Shinya’s palms resting flat against Yoshiki’s chest, even a simple kiss between them was pure grace and elegance._

_Clutching at the front of his shirt over the sudden sharp pain, Kyo turned and walked away silently._

~*~

Truth be told, Kyo wasn’t entirely certain why he’d brought up Yoshiki at all. Maybe he was just bitter that Shinya still hadn’t told him he was dating their former producer, several months after Kyo had seen them together. Maybe he wanted desperately to find it in himself to be happy for his friend’s happiness. Maybe he’d spent so long wrapped around the pain of what he wanted and could never have, could never voice for fear of hurting the one he loved, he’d become something of a masochist and now he was just jiggling the glass shards in his belly around. Probably the last one, he thought. Shinya _was_ pain – thinking about him, being around him, talking to him, performing with him; all absolute torture anymore – and he loved Shinya, so logically, he must love pain as well.

Plus he was getting pretty drunk, and all sense of tact and self-preservation had flown out the window.

“Well, Shin, I don’t know about you, but when I see two people making out, I generally assume they’re in some kind of relationship.”

“‘Making ou-’…” Shinya, far from looking like some long-guarded secret was coming to like, only grimaced with mild embarrassment. “Oh, _gods_ , you saw that?”

“I… saw you guys in the stairwell, yeah.” Kyo frowned as the drummer half-laughed, half-groaned.

“Yoshiki and I aren’t together; that kiss was just his idea of asking me out. I don’t think it ever occurred to him that I might turn him down.”

Kyo was equally baffled. “Oh… Why did you?”

Shinya shrugged a bit. ”He’s not really my type.”

“Bullshit,” Kyo contradicted immediately. “You worship the ground he walks on.”

“Yeah, as a drummer. But Yoshiki’s… he’s just not really the type to… _need_ another person, you know? He’s always been a perfect gentleman to me, and I’m sure he’d treat me well enough, but I don’t think I’d really be that important to him.”

“I see…”

Kyo was torn between laughing and screaming. All this time, he’d been suffering in silence to protect a relationship that didn’t even exist? Part of him was thrilled, demanding he turn to Shinya right that very second and tell the drummer that _he_ needed him, that he was the most important person in _his_ life and had been for ages, tell him all the things he’d been planning to say that day this whole misunderstanding began. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to reach those words now, and he wondered desolately if his moment had been lost. Besides, if _Yoshiki Fucking Hayashi_ wasn’t good enough for Shinya, what hope could he have, really? So he did the only thing that made any sense to him in that moment.

He drank. He drank until he stopped hurting, and then he drank some more. And then everything went black.

He didn’t know how long he spent unconscious – probably a few hours, though it felt like days – but at some point, when the sky was just beginning to grey with impending daylight, he awoke feeling sick. No, sick was not the right word for it. Kyo felt like he was _dying_. His head was pounding, his stomach lurched every time he exhaled, and his entire body felt sour and weak. Groaning, he huddled closer to the warmth he somehow knew was in the bed with him and tried to just ride it out. He stayed that way for a long time, exhausted to the bone but too miserable to get back to sleep, before he realized that the warmth he was cuddling was a naked body. And he could tell it was naked because _he_ was naked, and felt the brush of skin-on-skin down the entire front of his body. And was that…? Yeah, that was definitely the hours-old stale smell of sex.

Well, shit.

He had no one to blame but himself; he knew he didn’t handle booze well, and he’d chosen to go and get totally hammered anyway. Now he had to figure out a tactful way to kick this random asshole out of his bed. Sitting up slowly, one hand coming up automatically to press against his throbbing skull, he looked over to see just who he’d brought home with him last night. It took a minute to really register, but when it did, his jaw went slack with shock. Shinya? _Really?_ It was him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, but how in the hell did he ever manage to get his best friend into bed with him?!

Maybe… maybe he’d confessed at some point last night? And maybe Shinya… maybe he’d… felt the same? A painfully hopeful little bubble of joy swelled up in Kyo’s chest, and he wished with every fiber of his being he could actually remember what had happened.

Before he could really get any further than that, something else inside him bubbled, and he just barely made it to the bathroom before his stomach made absolutely clear that it did not approve of his choices. There was nothing left in it, but it still twisted and wrenched furiously, and all he could do was dry-heave over and over until the fit passed. Groaning, he used the sink counter to pull himself back up and turned on the cold water to splash over his face and rinse out his mouth. Pain killers came next, then he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cold surface of the mirror and trying to keep his nausea in check at least until the pills could dissolve. He was utterly miserable, but a smile was still tugging at his lips. Shinya had come home with him. Shinya had accepted him, had _wanted_ him. Waking up with his best friend in his bed was like a dream come true, hangover or no.

Although in his dreams, Shinya usually didn’t have all those bruises on his arms…

Kyo’s eyes snapped open as a different, significantly more horrifying explanation played out in his head. _Had_ Shinya actually accepted him? Had Shinya actually wanted him? Or had he… gods help him, had he assaulted his best friend?! Panting, suddenly terrified, he wracked his memories frantically for any clue as to how Shinya had wound up in his bed.

~*~

_-leaning against Shinya’s side, his arm slung over boney shoulders, one strong arm around his waist holding him up as they walked-_

_-both hands tangled in auburn hair, a fleeting glimpse of wide, stunned eyes before diving in and locking his lips against a gaping mouth-_

_-buttons snapping, cloth ripping, a slender body squirming wildly beneath his own, pinned under his weight-_

_-tight, glorious heat surrounding him, **swallowing** him as a shuddering voice cried out his name, manicured nails clawing at his shoulders-_

_-his fingers digging into smooth, straining flesh, “I love you” falling out of his mouth over and over like a wretched prayer-_

~*~

He couldn’t remember. Clearly he’d fucked Shinya last night, that much was certain, but _had Shinya_ _consented?_ Or was he far, far sicker than he’d ever imagined himself to be? He didn’t want to believe he could ever hurt the younger man, but he’d been so drunk last night, so desperate… And if he _had_ forced him… how could he ever face his friend again? There was no apologizing, no atoning for violating someone that way! Panicked tears stung the backs of his eyes. He couldn’t remember, _why couldn’t he remember?!_

Biting his lower lip, he crept back into the bedroom as quietly as he could. Clothes from last night were strewn about the room; both his and Shinya’s sporting tears, but he could easily have ripped both himself. There was an open tube of lubricant on the floor by the bed, a used condom next to the trashcan, and when he lifted the edge of the blanket, he nearly cried in relief when he didn’t see any blood. Thank the gods for small miracles. But it still didn’t prove one way or another whether Shinya had said ‘yes,’ only that Kyo had managed the presence of mind to prepare him first. The more he tried to figure it out, the more he doubted himself, the more certain he was that he’d become a horrible monster in the night and committed an unforgivable sin against his friend. How could Shinya ever want him…? He felt so sick, the effects of his hangover now amplified by anxiety and guilt, and he sank to his knees next to the bed.

“What am I going to do…?” he whispered.

The sound of sheets rustling overhead was soft, but his heart leapt into his throat the moment he heard it. What was _Shinya_ going to do? Would he yell at Kyo, scream at him how sick he was and how he’d ruined everything? Would he offer Kyo forgiveness the vocalist knew he didn’t deserve, pitying the pathetic creature he’d become? Would he beat Kyo within an inch of his life in retribution for last night’s transgression? He didn’t know… he felt like he didn’t know anything anymore. All he could be sure of was that he was _never_ going to drink again.

“Mmn…” A faint grunt of discomfort, and more rustling. “…Kyo? What are you-”

“I’m sorry!” Kyo breathed, words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them, his voice pitchy as it cracked and wavered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I swear I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me, Shinya, I’m so sor-”

“Kyo, _shut up._ ”

Kyo’s mouth snapped shut and he swallowed anxiously. Shinya didn’t sound angry or hurt at all, just tired and somewhat… exasperated? What did that _mean?!_ A thin hand closed around the vocalist’s forearm and dragged him off the floor and onto the bed with the shocking, almost scary strength the drummer always seemed to possess. Shinya’s arms clamped around him and slowly, uncertainly, Kyo allowed himself to be drawn on top of the younger man’s narrow chest. Soft, full lips pressed against his forehead, long fingers ran through his hair, and Shinya relaxed back into his pillow with a languid yawn.

“Shin… I-”

“Go back to sleep. You know your voice makes my heart ache.”

**Author's Note:**

> My gift to Victoriakada for the Winter Gift Fic Exchange over at direngrey_yaoi. The prompt: "Anguish. Very emotional longing and then finally receiving what he wanted, only to wonder if it was true or maybe forced into doing so." Writing Shinya as a main character/love interest is surprisingly strange and difficult.


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